The Shadow Wolves
by Chris Ganale
Summary: An assassin with no sense of destiny. A sohee with no memories of her past. A mercenary organization caught in the brutal War of Emperium. Can a timeless love overcome all boundaries placed before it? Or will death be the final embrace for fated lovers?
1. Chapter One: A Fateful Rescue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Ragnarok Online, nor do I give a rat's ass what people say about my making a fic based on an "illegal" private server. Don't like it, don't fucking read it. Period. However, the character L'dran Cresnoble, the Shadow Wolves Mercenary Organization, and the sohee named Michiko do belong to me, so steal them without credit and I'm dragging your ass to court/PvP.

* * *

Deep within the Payon caves, an assassin sat silently in the center of an ancient samurai village long since buried in the caves. All around him, the sohees, spirits of pain and regret, regarded him curiously, but did not bother him. They were peaceful spirits, and did not attack anyone unprovoked. They simply continued to float around aimlessly, their mournful cries echoing in the otherwise-silent village.

For his own part, the assassin merely sat near the old debris of a campfire, his eyes closed. He could tell that the campfire wasn't as old as the village itself; one of the pieces of log had still been slightly warm when he had touched it. So someone had recently camped in the village.

He opened his eyes to find a sohee floating a few feet away from him, looking closely at him. The second the spirit noticed his attention on her, she quickly darted away from him, pretending to simply be passing by on her way. He smirked slightly. No matter how many times he was here, the sohees were always intrigued by his presence.

Perhaps it was because they feared him, knowing that he spent most of his time in the village killing the sohees, munaks, and bon guns. Or perhaps they sought to fall under his katars, to be freed of the pain they continually endured so long as they remained alive. If that was what they were after, then he would be happy to oblige them in that regard.

He knew the history of the sohees, what they really were. Pain was all they knew. Death was freedom for them. He would be their liberator. They would resist him, he knew, but in the end, they would welcome the death, would thank him with their dying breath.

His eyes shot open as a scream pierced the mournful cries of the sohees. He shot to his feet, flicking his arms to extend his jamadhars into their extended fighting positions. Swallowing the contents of a speed-enhancing potion, he shot off toward the source of the scream.

---

She did not know how she had gotten herself into this situation. In retrospect, she figured that she hadn't been paying attention. Normally, the soldier skeletons left the spirits of the village alone, but she had heard some munaks telling how they had been attacked by the skeletons after provoking them in some way.

She didn't know how she had provoked the two skeletons angrily slashing at her, however. She had been taking a closer look at the man who was sitting in the village, then quickly dashed away when he had noticed her. She figured that she had run into the two skeletons right about then. She hadn't even noticed until one of their sharp blades had driven itself right into her stomach.

Retreating away from the two skeletons, she looked about frantically for any assistance. She knew that none of the other sohees would help her, but that didn't stop her from hoping. A munak sat against a tree nearby, doing a good job of not looking to pay attention to the erupting fiasco.

She heard a sound from behind her and glanced over her shoulder, through the waving mass of her hair. A skeleton archer stood a dozen feet behind her, tightening its bowstring. She knew that the skeletons, be they archers or soldiers, always attacked whatever they found other skeletons attacking. She knew that if she was seen being attacked by the soldiers, that archer would be on her in an instant.

Turning to her left, she started to dash away from the soldiers, only to find the side of an ancient building blocking her path. Taking a glance to the side, she saw that the archer was looking up from its work, having heard the clacking sounds of the soldiers' bones grating together. She figured she had maybe five minutes left.

Suddenly, a sheathed dagger dropped to the ground in front of her. She stared down at it, momentarily dumbfounded.

"Use it!" she heard a voice call out to her, moments before she caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye.

Seconds later, a series of sharp rock spikes shot up out of the ground, impaling one of the soldiers and lifting it up off the ground. As the soldier twitched atop the rock spike, a dark-clad figure burst out of the ground and dashed forward, his motion almost too fast for her to follow. He completely bypassed the second soldier, which made an ineffectual swing at him with its dagger, and dashed straight at the archer.

The first swing of the katar on his left arm threw the archer's bow out of line; the second came around and snapped the bowstring. After parrying the archer's weapon, he spun around and planted a heavy boot into the skeleton's chest, fracturing its sternum and sending it crashing back against the wall of a building. Drawing back his left arm, he stabbed his katar into the throat of the archer.

As the man drew back his right arm to finish off the archer, he turned back to see the soldier still alive and moving toward him. He took a glance at the knife still laying on the ground. "Take the knife!" he called out to her, stabbing his katar into the archer's face. "Kill that soldier!"

She looked down at the knife the man had dropped at her feet. This man had risked his life to save hers, she at least owed him her assistance in helping him to fight off the soldiers. Reaching down, she snatched the knife up and unsheathed it, momentarily pausing as she caught sight of the metal that comprised the knife and the markings along its blade.

It was a silver chastity knife. She had seen them before, when outsiders had come to tame other sohees and take them away. Despite knowing what this knife was for, she could still feel the magic in the markings attempting to compel her. Attempting to shake off the effects of the sigils, she lunged forward, the knife raised in her right hand.

Somehow, she moved too far into the skeleton's field of vision, or it heard her, or something. But the next thing she knew, the soldier had turned from the assassin and sliced its daggers through the air toward her. She ducked away from the daggers, feeling their sharp edges slice through the ribbons tied into her hair.

She quickly backed up against the wall that had held her back before, as the soldier turned and advanced slowly on her, with what appeared to be a mocking smile on its bony visage. Terrified, she looked to where the assassin had been moments before, only to find the remains of the archer, and no assassin. Had he abandoned her to die? If this was the assassin she had heard about, then it wouldn't surprise her at all. This assassin came to the village only to kill sohees.

A crack of bones drew her attention back to the soldier before her, just in time to see its skull flying off to the distance. The assassin stepped forward past the soldier, flipping his katar back along his right arm, and stabbing the blade into the sternum of the soldier.

As the headless soldier fell to the ground, he deftly plucked one of the daggers from its bony fingers and inserted it in a pouch on his clothing. He then spared only a moment's glance toward her before spinning on his heel and walking away.

"Wait!" she called out, not knowing why she did.

The assassin stopped, looking back at her over his shoulder. He didn't say a word.

She paused, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. Then she blinked, felt the weight of the knife in her hand, and then held it out to him. "This is yours," she said meekly.

"Keep it," he answered without pause. "It does not serve me at all."

She lowered her hand and looked down to the ground. "You… Why did you save me? Aren't you the assassin that kills sohees? Like me?"

"Skeletons of any kind are infidels that do not understand the sanctity of taking life," the man answered, keeping his back to her. "I, on the other hand, fully understand the significance of taking a life. It is why I am an assassin."

"That doesn't explain why you saved me. Why didn't you kill me yourself?"

"I do not seek to kill sohees. I seek to free you from your pain. Do you wish to be freed?"

She clenched her hands into fists, her eyes flashing an angry red. "Are you asking me if I want to die!?"

"Bluntly, yes."

She blinked, having expected him to deny it or something else. "N-no."

"Then I have nothing more to say to you. Seek me when you wish to be freed." With that, he started to walk away again.

"Wait!"

He stopped. "What now?"

"I… I forgot to thank you. For saving my life. Thank you."

"Do not trouble yourself. No thanks are necessary." He turned his head away from her, but did not continue moving. "There is something else you wish to say?"

Her eyes widened. How had he known? Slowly, she nodded her head. "Y-yes. I… wish to join you."

"Why? Are you not afraid that one day I may turn my blades to you?"

She paused, meeting eyes with the assassin. Somehow, she could feel that this man would not turn on her in such a manner. Slowly, she shook her head. "If you were to turn your blades on me, then I would not stop you. It would be my time."

One moment, the assassin was several yards away from her. Then she blinked, and when next she opened her eyes, he was right in front of her, the blades of his katars pinching at the flesh of her throat. "Is that what you think?"

"Yes," she replied, barely a quaver to her voice, as she forced herself to remain very still. "If you choose to kill me, then I will not stop you."

She could not see his expression for the mask he wore over the lower half of his face, but he seemed to be smiling as he stepped back and withdrew his katars, folding them back across his arms. "Very well. You may accompany me."

Blinking once, she bowed deeply, a faint tinge of red on her cheeks. "I thank you, Master."

The mask he wore contorted into what appeared to be a frown. "Do not call me that. My name is L'dran Cresnoble."

Her blush deepened as she bowed again. "I am sorry…"

"I go by Cresnoble."

"Sir Cresnoble," she finished quietly.

"I am no knight." But it didn't sound like an admonishment, and he did not tell her not to call him that. "Do you have a name, little sohee?"

She paused, thinking. She had had a name when she was alive, but it had been so long since it had been used. Then she blinked and nodded. "My name was Michiko."

* * *

**A/N:** There you have it, kids. Not much, but hey, this is probably going to be a boring story anyway. There's really not even a guarantee that I'll get anywhere with it.  



	2. Chapter Two: A Chance Encounter

The hustle and bustle of people in Prontera, Rune-Midgard's capital city, was nothing more than a mild nuisance for Cresnoble, something he only had to put up with once or twice a day when he came to restock his supply of awakening potions and healing items. He was willing to bet that Michiko, who had probably not been outside the ancient village for a very long time, was overwhelmed by the press of people.

He glanced back over his shoulder at the black-haired spirit he had saved from certain death. She certainly didn't look overwhelmed, if she was at all. She simply floated quietly along behind him, her hands hidden within the sleeves of her kimono, as she looked around at the city and its sights every now and again.

Turning his attention back to what was ahead of him, he stopped in front of a merchant stand and quickly scanned over its wares. After a moment, he spotted what he was looking for. Awakening potions, all stacked together neatly in one corner of the cart, what looked like a hundred of them. Good.

As he turned his dark eyes up toward the merchant, he mentally sighed and prepared himself for the onslaught of attempts to sell him things he neither wanted nor needed.

"Ah, Master Assassin, good to see you again. I have a special on white potions today. Buy ten, get five free!"

"No." This merchant was sharp. He remembered that Cresnoble tended to buy things in groups of ten, and had adjusted his sales pitch accordingly.

"Very well, then," the merchant said, not at all bothered by the negative response. He always had more things to sell. "How about this mocking muffler? Perfect for an assassin such as yourself!"

"No."

"But it's plus-six! Only a steal at­–"

"Do you do this every day?" Michiko asked quietly, holding the sleeves of her kimono in front of her face. One crimson eye was peeking out over the fabric of the sleeve.

Cresnoble glanced back at her over his shoulder. "Yes."

"Yes?" the merchant asked, not having heard the sohee's question. "Excellent! That will be­–"

"No!" Cresnoble almost shouted, spinning around and pointing a finger dangerously at the merchant. "I do not want the mocking muffler. I already _have_ a mocking muffler, and it happens to be plus-six. Now give me my regular order."

Blinking in surprise, Michiko drifted back slightly from the irritated assassin, her eyes wide. The few times she had seen him in the village, and since he had saved her from the skeletons, she had never seen him anything but cool and calm. His current mood startled her, to say the least.

Remarkably, the merchant's outward expression did not change as he reached over to his selection of awakening potions and withdrew ten of them, placing them into a pouch which he then laid on the counter. "Twelve thousand zeny, Master Assassin."

Behind the sleeves of her kimono, Michiko's mouth dropped at the price the merchant was charging for ten bottles of some liquid. In her opinion, it was highway robbery!

But Cresnoble merely reached into his money pouch and withdrew three coins, laying them on the countertop as he grasped the pouch with his other hand.

The merchant picked up the coins, looked them over, and then nodded. The coins soon disappeared into one of the merchant's pockets.

Without another word, Cresnoble placed the pouch into an item space on his belt, then turned away from the merchant cart. He glanced over at Michiko and twitched his head to the left, a come-along gesture.

Nodding, she drifted forward again, feeling a tug on her kimono as she did so. It wasn't until she heard the loud crash of a cart toppling over that she realized the edge of her skirts had gotten caught on a merchant's cart.

"Me shop!" cried out an Irish-sounding voice, presumably belonging to the owner of the cart she had toppled. "Ye bloody wench, ye've ruined me shop!"

She quickly dropped to the ground and began gathering up the items that had been spilled out of the cart, trying to help the merchant get back his things even as she said, "I'm so sorry! Please forgive me."

"Whatever," the merchant said, also quickly grabbing his fallen items. "Just help me gather up me stuff before–"

No sooner had he said that then about half a dozen passersby descended upon the fallen cart, grabbing items at random and then taking off. One of the items that disappeared was a very expensive-looking one handed sword that seemed to glow with a holy light.

Behind her, as she continued to mutter apologies and pick up the merchant's wares, Michiko heard an impact, a surprised outcry, and another impact. She looked back in time to see Cresnoble drawing back his arm, one of the thieves laying prone on the ground.

As she watched, the assassin turned toward another group of escaping thieves and suddenly vanished in a burst of cobblestone. At first she was confused, until she saw a series of rock spires rise up from the ground, cagelike, around three of the escapees. Another row of spikes shot up at the back of the thief who had stolen the sword, but the man was too far away to be trapped. The spikes slashed through his clothes and cut open his back, but did nothing more.

Then Cresnoble reappeared in the exact spot he'd vanished from, and crouched down to pick up the wares that the thief at his feet had stolen. With those in one arm, he walked over to the group of trapped thieves, extending the jamadhar on his right arm. He stopped at the perimeter of the spires and stared in at them.

"The wares or your lives. Choose quickly."

Needless to say, the thieves quickly handed over the items that they had stolen. Moments later, the spires disintegrated, and the thieves beat a hasty retreat.

Returning back to the merchant with his arms full of stolen goods, Cresnoble righted the man's stand with his foot, then laid what he had recovered inside it. The merchant and Michiko also put their recovered goods inside.

"I thank ye for helpin' get back me goods, but could ye have at least thought more economically? That one blighter made off with my Excalibur! That's a half a million zeny gone right there!"

The assassin narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Be grateful that I helped you at all, merchant. I could have simply let them walk away with your livelihood. But because I am weary of remaining in this city…" Cresnoble reached into his money pouch and withdrew five coins, which he held out to the merchant. "Five hundred thousand zeny. The price of your sword."

The merchant took the coins, counted them, and then something hit him. "Hey! The sword was worth six hundred thousand, not a meager five!"

Closing his eyes, Cresnoble took a deep breath. Michiko, recognizing that he was getting irritated again, lowered to the ground and hid her face behind the sleeves of her kimono. The assassin stared coldly at the merchant. "You said half a million zeny. Five hundred thousand is half a million, not six. If you mean six, you should have _said_ six. You have received five hundred thousand, and you will not get a penny more."

With that, the assassin turned his eyes forward and walked away.

Michiko peeked out from behind her sleeves, then lifted herself into the air and quickly floated after the assassin. She followed him in silence until he stopped in front of the teleport agent standing near the fountain, then covered her face again. "P-please, forgive me…" she whispered.

He turned and looked back at her, seeing that she had once again hidden her face. From her voice, it sounded to him as though she was on the verge of crying. Reaching out with his left hand, he firmly took hold of her wrist and pulled it away from her face. She looked up at him meekly from behind the remaining sleeve, her face burning red, and tears flowing from her eyes.

"Why do you cry?"

Her one visible eye widened, then swirled around in confusion, as though the answer was somewhere in the air nearby and that she could see it. "Be-because you e-expect more from me."

"I do?"

"Yes. I…no–I don't know!"

He did not respond.

"I…I know what you think of me. You think I'm a useless, clumsy, stupid little monster. I don't know why you let me come with you, but I'm trying to prove that I'm more than what you think I am. I just…" She trailed off slowly, her eyes once more overflowing with tears.

"Stop," the assassin said softly, though there was no mistaking the authoritative tone in his voice.

Wiping her eyes with her sleeves, Michiko turned her red-rimmed eyes toward him, then automatically lowered her gaze to the ground between his feet.

"I do not expect anything from you, nor do I know why I have allowed you to accompany me. If you were to ask me again at some distant point in the future, I may or may not have an answer for you. Perhaps it was destined. Perhaps not. I, for one, do not believe in destiny."

He paused and looked aside, as though wondering what, if anything, the things he had said had to do with her accidentally knocking over a merchant's cart. Then he shrugged and turned his head back toward her.

"The decision then, is yours. To continue to accompany me or go on your own. Decide quickly, for the places to which I travel are not known to be hospitable."

She did not hesitate for a moment. She turned a determined face up toward the assassin. "I told you before. I wish to prove myself to you. And I cannot do that if I leave now. I will not leave, Sir Cresnoble."

He nodded, his face showing no outward sign of emotion. "As you wish." With nothing more said, he turned and stepped up to the Kafra teleporting agent, who turned to him at his pointed stare. "A teleport to Lutie, for myself and the little one."

As he said this, he reached back and grabbed Michiko by the arm, pulling her up beside him. She reddened noticeably as he did so; she did not like to have attention on her.

The teleport agent nodded and closed her eyes, and mere moments later the city of Prontera vanished around them.

* * *

**A/N:** Wow, an update. So there _is_ more to this than it seemed. Nothing special to say about this one, except that you should expect long delays between updates. There's no WoE setup on Valhalla yet (truthfully, I'm not looking forward to it), so there isn't a whole lot to be done on our server other than level and fight MVPs. I'm one of the few players that actually attempts to genuinely RP once and a while.

So anyway, now for my ONE shout-out. /swt

**fm-angel:** A fellow vRO'er eh? Well, now you know one of my main character names. /ok But I'm not on Cresnoble as much anymore, because I mostly just treasure-hunt in Lutie, and I use my hunter for that. Michiko recently became friendly with me:D Her new performance is so cute.

And you know, at first I cringed at the so overused notion of "PC save monster, monster follows PC, monster eventually falls in love with PC" for a main plot device. But I actually came up with a way to do that and be pretty cool while I was finishing up this chapter. ;D I hope it goes according to plan. /ok


	3. Chapter Three: A Fleeting Moment

The first sensation to return to Michiko was that of mind-numbing cold. The icy air bit into her body even through the thick fabric of her kimono. Pure white was the first thing she saw, and for a moment, she thought she had gone blind. Then she realized that the whiteness was not her own lack of vision, but instead the snow being driven around her by the fierce wind. She lifted up her left arm, holding her sleeve as a shield in front of her face, and looked closely into the driving snow. It almost seemed as though it was falling horizontally.

A few moments later, the intensity of the wind suddenly dropped off, and the snow returned to falling gently down toward the ground, as it was rightfully meant to. Now that she could see more clearly, she could see that she was in a well-lit town square, surrounded by cozy-looking buildings and evergreen trees decorated with Christmas style. There was a handful of people milling about, as well as a few warmly dressed people that she was beginning to recognize as Kafra employees standing nearby.

Directly in front of her was quite possibly the biggest tree she ever saw. It dominated the center of the town square, and was supported by decorated strings of Christmas lights attached to nearby lampposts. She leaned her head back, and back, and back. Approximately halfway up the tree was wrapped a huge banner that read "MERRY CHRISTMAS." She continued to lean her head back, and was almost to the point that she'd fall over when she finally caught sight of the star atop the tree.

"Lutie is referred to by some as Christmas Town," Cresnoble's voice said from beside her. "The town is so far north that it's always covered in snow. Santa Claus is said to live here."

She turned slowly in midair to face the assassin, tightly clutching her kimono to her to preserve her body warmth. She noted with a fair amount of envy that he looked quite warm in his padded clothing. Most of her mind was concentrating on figuring out a way for her to get warm, but she was paying enough attention to Cresnoble to have heard what he said. "Santa...Claus?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

He looked up into the clouds, oblivious of the falling snow, as if seeking an answer. "He's a fairy tale figure. He's known by many names, including Saint Nicholas, Father Christmas, and others. The story told by parents to their children is that every year, on Christmas Eve, Santa Claus goes to every single house in the world, delivering Christmas presents to every good child. He flies from house to house on a red sleigh pulled by eight flying reindeer, led by a particular red-nosed reindeer called Rudolph."

Unconsciously, Michiko had drifted down and settled upon the snow as Cresnoble had told the story, looking up at him with shining wonder in her eyes like one of the children he had mentioned. It was the first time she had heard of this Santa Claus figure, but she certainly wished that he would stop by and give _her_ a present every year. She smiled happily, imagining over a thousand gifts in her mind that she would love to have.

Cresnoble's voice, when she next heard it, carried a hint of amusement in it. "You certainly look happy at whatever you're thinking, but you also look incredibly cold. I can tell because your nose is turning red."

Blinking, Michiko's hands shot up to cover her nose with her sleeves as the rest of her face turned a matching shade of red. Hearing Cresnoble's laughter in response to her reaction made her blush even harder. She lifted her sleeves higher until they completely covered her face.

Suddenly, she felt a small amount of weight settle around her shoulders. She lowered her arms to her side and looked down to see that he had wrapped his muffler around her and secured it. She had barely felt him place the garment on her; he was obviously very nimble with his hands. She looked up at him questioningly.

"I told you, you look cold," he said with a half-shrug.

Nodding gratefully, she reached up to pull the garment more tightly around her, and felt a stiffness along the bottom that she was sure wasn't a natural part of the fabric. Her confusion growing, she felt around the edges of the unnatural stiffness until she found a carefully hidden flap. Prying it open with her fingers, she looked inside, finding what appeared to be a trading or playing card. She pulled on the card just enough to see the image on its face, and immediately recognized the monster depicted on it. It was a whisper; a ghost that she had seen many times in the village cemetery over the years.

"Oh," she said quietly, putting the card back inside the hidden slot and then reaching her hands up to remove the muffler. Before she could undo the first button, she found her hands pinned against each other by Cresnoble's gloved hands. "But don't you..."

"I can do without it," he answered, then let go of her hands and patted her head. "You're cold, so you keep it on."

She looked down slightly, her cheeks tinged with red. "Arigato..."

His fingers gently took hold of her chin and lifted her face until she met eyes with him. "You're doing it again. Acting like I'm your master and I own you. I'm not and I don't."

She opened her mouth to apologize, then realized that's exactly what he didn't want her to do, and closed her mouth again, looking off to the side as she tried to think of something to say. Then she looked back into his dark eyes. "Then what are we?"

"Traveling companions," he answered. She thought she could see what seemed to be a smile under the mask covering his mouth.

Knowing that nothing more needed to be said, she smiled as well, not knowing why his statement made her so happy.

"Well, let's go," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder for only a moment. Then he stepped forward and walked north.

Still smiling, she lifted herself up and floated after him.

---

Michiko slid back from the animated gift box, her silver dagger flashing as another slash opened up in its side. She quickly dropped prone, easily avoiding the jack-in-the-box style fist that the box used to counterattack. Raising back up into the air, she floated backwards, willing the box to come after her.

It did.

From her right side, a series of sharp spikes shot out of the ground, impaling the box on six of them. The box shuddered once, then let out a burst of air that she was beginning to recognize as the death of the box.

Half a second later, Cresnoble appeared from the origin point of the spikes, folding back the jamadhars against his arms as he stepped forward and began to root around inside the remains of the box. After a moment, he turned away and sat down. Held in his hands were a beat-up looking violet box, a green gem, and a piece of cake. The gem immediately went into his pocket.

Drifting forward, Michiko settled down in front of him, adjusting the skirts of her kimono as she did so. "How do you do that?" she asked, gesturing toward the remnants of the box. "That attack that you do."

"It's a weapon-specific assassin technique," he answered, shaking the violet box near his right ear. He then placed the box in the palm of his left hand, attempting to gauge its weight. "It's called Grimtooth."

She nodded, then turned to look at the machinery of the toy factory around them. She looked up just as a crane in the ceiling passed over, carrying a huge crate filled with wrapped presents. He had explained to her that the factory was used to manufacture all the toys that Santa Claus supposedly delivered to the children of the world on Christmas Eve, but that he did not personally believe in the legend or the figure.

Turning her attention back to her immediate surroundings, she found Cresnoble poking at the sides of the box like a curious child. She blinked repeatedly, then asked, "What are you doing?"

"This is an old violet box," he answered, not taking his eyes off the object in question. "It has some magical properties to it, in that when you open it, you get a random item from it. Sometimes you can even get weapons or equipment."

She blinked in disbelief, leaning forward and staring at the box. "You can get weapons out of that little thing? How do you know what's inside it?"

"You don't. Not until you open it." He turned the box over in his hands, staring down at it.

"Then...what are you going to do with it?" she asked.

He shrugged. "No clue. Don't know whether to open it or sell it."

"Oh."

There was an awkward silence for several minutes, then they both heard a low grumbling sound. Michiko blushed immediately and covered her face with her sleeves.

Reaching down to his side, Cresnoble gently picked up the cake piece and held it out to her. "Here. Eat this."

"Thank you," she said warmly, taking the piece of cake and slowly biting into it. The sweetness of it seemed distantly familiar, but she could not, for the life of her, remember the last time she had tasted something like it.

After carefully tucking the violet box into his item pocket, he watched her eat the cake, noticing that she seemed to be savoring every bite. "Never had cake before?"

She paused at his question and looked at him, the lack of focus in her eyes indicating that she was sifting through her memories. After a moment, she shook her head. "I have had something, a long, long time ago, that tasted similar to this, but I can't remember what or where, or when."

She pondered on it for another moment, then smiled wistfully, shook her head, and returned to eating the cake. The expression on her face was nothing less than pure contentment and happiness, and did much to compliment her delicate natural beauty.

And suddenly, as the excruciating volume of the shot began to die out in Cresnoble's ears, he watched her expression change from contentment to extreme pain in a second. The kinetic force of the impact lifted her up off the floor and threw her into the remains of the myst case, where she laid writhing in pain.

Before his brain even connected what was happening, the assassin had already shot to his feet and spun to confront the cruiser that had shot Michiko. His eyes narrowed into hate-filled slits as he flexed his arms, causing his jamadhars to swing forward and lock into their battle positions with a pair of intimidatingly-loud clicks. As soon as those clicks sounded, he shot forward, running directly at the cruiser.

The possessed nutcracker fired again, its ancient musket properly positioned to replace most of the assassin's face with a bloody hole. Unfortunately for the cruiser, Cresnoble had known it would attempt that shot, and was already sidestepping to the left while continuing forward. As a result, the bullet merely sliced across the assassin's right cheek, severing the loops that held his mask in place and allowing it to flop down from covering his mouth.

Not stopping to either fix or remove the mask, Cresnoble skidded to a halt in front of the cruiser, his thick boots screeching across the tiled floor. His left arm lashed out, knocking the nutcracker's rifle aside, and his right hand came across with a flash of silver light.

With a clatter of wood and plastic, the cruiser's left arm, with rifle still in hand, hit the ground and bounced twice before laying still, several meters away. The cruiser looked dumbly at the stump of its arm for a moment, then returned its eyes forward just as Cresnoble placed his jamadhars around its throat in the position of a pair of scissors.

The assassin paused long enough only to give the possessed doll a look filled with so much hate and malice that it would most certainly welcome whatever hell it ended up in. Then he swung his arms inward, the opposing motions causing the blades of his weapons to neatly sever the nutcracker's head.

As it died, Cresnoble wasted no time to savor his victory, or even loot the corpse. He immediately turned back around, folding his katars back across his arms, and ran back toward the remains of the myst case, which were ominously still.

He dropped down to both knees beside Michiko, grabbing her left hand in his own and squeezing tightly as he searched her neck for a pulse with his right hand. One of the things about being an assassin was knowing how to check whether or not your target was dead.

After a few nerve-hammering moments of searching, he found an extremely faint pulse. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he reached into his item pouch and pulled out a preserved butterfly wing, then crushed it in his hand. Scattering the resulting powder in a circle around himself and Michiko, he held the sohee tightly to him as he felt the familiar transportation magic wash over his body.

---

Michiko had no idea what was going on. She remembered happily eating the cake that Cresnoble had given her, remembered a sudden excruciating pain in her chest, and then nothing but darkness.

As suddenly as her sensations had gone from her before, she suddenly found herself witnessing a scene. It was incredibly short, and it seemed to be nothing more than a dream.

She saw, in this dream, a young woman with red eyes like her own, but with long blue hair trailing down her back. This woman was dressed in what she thought could easily be royal clothing, complete with some sort of ornate headpiece.

The woman was surrounded on all sides by what appeared to be bodyguards, or some sort of escort. They were all wearing heavy armor that seemed to be patterned off of samurai armor, yet bearing influences of ancient Roman design as well. Each soldier carried a tower shield and a long spear.

Standing directly behind and to the right of the blue-haired woman was another woman. Her hair was red, and she wore a less-constrictive set of armor consisting of a custom-fitted breastplate and pieces of armor fitted to the most vulnerable areas of her legs. A white bow that looked to be very well-crafted was hung on the back of her breastplate, and by the look of her, she was a personal guard of the blue-haired woman.

Michiko couldn't recognize where the group was; if she was at all accurate in guessing that the woman in the center was royalty, then they were probably in a castle of some kind. It was raining in her dream; a noticeable drizzle that pasted the royal woman's blue hair to the sides of her face as she turned her head skyward, staring up into the clouds and allowing Michiko a deep look into her red eyes.

_Who is she? She seems so familiar._

---

It was taking a _lot_ of will power for Cresnoble not to senselessly plead for Michiko to open her eyes. He simply remained kneeling on the ground, her head laid in his lap and her right hand held tightly by his own.

Upon returning to Prontera carrying Michiko's body, he had immediately sought out a priest or equal person in the Church of Prontera that could heal her. Luck had been with him; a black-garbed priestess who had identified herself as Kitty had been standing on the street all day, giving out her healing touch to whomever was in need of it.

So she had immediately agreed to offer her assistance when she laid eyes on the assassin carrying the bleeding, unconscious sohee. Cresnoble had followed all of the priestess' instructions, and now was waiting for Michiko to regain consciousness.

Kitty stood nearby, keeping an eye out for any citizens in need, but also watching and hoping that Michiko would be okay. She had another healing spell on hand, if necessary.

But that proved to be unneeded, as Michiko's dark red eyes fluttered open, glazed at first, and then quickly focusing on Cresnoble. "I... Sir Cresnoble? What happened?"

Realizing she was awake, Cresnoble quickly let go of her hand, intent on preserving his mostly-aloof mannerisms. "A cruiser shot you. I killed it, then brought you back here, where we were fortunate this young priestess was available to heal you." He nodded toward Kitty, who was walking back toward the two.

Michiko sat up, turning her red gaze up toward the black-garbed priestess. Smiling happily, she bowed forward. "Arigato!"

Smiling as well, Kitty leaned forward and patted Michiko on the head. "You're quite welcome, little one. Your master was very worried about you."

Michiko blushed furiously and looked over at Cresnoble in outright shock, noticing for the first time that his mask was half-hanging off his face, and doing nothing to hide the tinge of color on _his_ cheeks.

"I'm _not_ her master," Cresnoble said icily. It was the same voice Michiko had heard him use against the merchant whose cart she had accidentally tipped.

But she wasn't thinking about that.

_Did he really worry about me?_

Suddenly realizing that he was carefully watching her, Michiko turned her head away from him, blushing even harder, and looked back at Kitty. "No...not my master. He saved my life and I've been traveling with him since then."

An assassin clad in indigo-colored garb, wearing a sakkat and an opera mask, stepped out of an alleyway near Kitty and turned toward Michiko and Cresnoble. He stared at Cresnoble for several long moments, then nodded. "You're the mercenary, right?"

"What of it?" Cresnoble responded coolly. He did not trust many individuals, and of them, he trusted another assassin least of all.

The other assassin shrugged. "I heard you were trying to form your own guild of mercenaries. How's that working?"

"Fair enough."

Michiko watched the exchange between the two assassins with a bit of discomfort. The cold and focused tone that Cresnoble was currently using always scared her. She much preferred the more companionable and friendly Cresnoble that she followed to the dungeons of the world.

"That's good," the newcomer said. He seemed to be a sociable assassin. As far as Michiko was concerned, that just didn't make sense. "I was just asking, because my own guild, Bushido, is interested in helping out everyone, but just for the good of helping out. Now of course, some people might ask us to assassinate someone, or something similar that is against our code. Should that happen, I would gladly defer them to your organization, were our two groups allied."

Cresnoble nodded. "Okay, I'll consider it."

The other assassin nodded. "Good. Oh, and by the way, you're invited to my wedding in a few days." He gestured toward Kitty. "Woman of the cloth and a man of shadows. Odd, to say the least."

Cresnoble shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

Michiko couldn't help but smile at that one. He was correct. Stranger things have happened, at least from her perspective. Strange, that he had saved her life, when all she had heard about him from her fellow sohees was that he was a killer of sohees. Strange, that she had decided to follow him, knowing that he was renowned as a sohee killer. Strange, that he had let her follow him. Strange, that she did not know why, but she felt that she was somehow connected to him in a way that neither of them could understand.

"Yeah, that's true," the other assassin said to Cresnoble. "Well, I'll see you around." With that, he vanished back into the alley.

Taking a slow breath, Cresnoble turned toward Michiko and gave her a little smile, not needing to use any words to tell her that he was glad she survived the cruiser.

Michiko smiled in return, blushing slightly, and then settled down next to him, turning her face up toward the sky in the same way that she had seen the woman do so in her dream.

_She looked so familiar... Who was she?_

_

* * *

_

**A/N:** Bum bum bum! We're still alive, kids! We've moved over to a new server, which I will not name for fear of attracting Gravity's attention to it, and this server is totally different from the last one. Plus:O Real people! And an awesome plot for which you will all turn into goo upon reading the entirety of:D


	4. Chapter Four: The Pirate's Intervention

Michiko stared down at the golden mineral fragment she held in her hands. Cresnoble had told her it was an emperium, a valuable gem for which men and armies frequently went to war. Even as she held the seemingly-benign fragment in her hands, she could sense an inner power to it.

Leaning out slightly from behind the assassin, she looked at the short line of people ahead of them in the Prontera Guild Agency. She had no clue what any of this guild business was about, but she assumed that it was at least marginally important to Cresnoble, otherwise the highly antisocial assassin wouldn't be standing in the line the way he was.

As they waited, she wondered when he had acquired the emperium shard she was holding for him. She safely assumed that he must have gotten it before that fateful foray into the Payon caves. She lifted her head from gazing at its golden surface, the question of when he had gotten the emperium forming on her lips.

Before she asked, however, she shut her mouth and slowly shook her head. It wasn't very important, especially considering that he had said they would have to hand over the emperium to officially organize a guild. Since it wasn't going to be in their possession much longer, she didn't need to worry herself about where it had come from, or when.

Seeming to sense her confused thoughts, Cresnoble half-turned, raising an eyebrow at her smiling expression. "Something on your mind?" he asked.

Her eyes snapped open and she blinked in surprise, her previous smile replaced with the look of confusion she often took on whenever he spoke or asked her a question suddenly. "Hm? Oh. Um, no... I just...feel happy for some reason." She shook her head in emphasis of her lack of understanding why, setting the ribbons in her hair to softly swishing over her shoulders.

He nodded slowly, his face carefully neutral. "I see..." For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to say something else, then he simply turned back around to face forward.

Michiko tilted her head to the side, wondering why he had gone so silent all of a sudden. Then she mentally shook her head, reminding herself that Cresnoble was one of the most nonvocal people on the face of the planet; at least that she had met.

"Next," she heard a bored-sounding female voice call out, drawing her out of her reverie as Cresnoble stepped up to a desk and sat down. Michiko quickly followed after him, hovering silently in the air beside him as she watched the official hand him some sort of application sheet and a writing utensil.

Placing the emperium on the desk beside Cresnoble, Michiko turned and looked around at the inside of the guild agency. There were about ten other people in there setting up guilds that she could see. Three doors led out of the room, not including the main exit, and she had no idea where any of those led. She yawned softly, turning back and glancing at the multiple sheets that Cresnoble had to fill out. She sighed slowly and sat down on the floor, expecting to be there for quite a while.

---

Meanwhile, off the coast of Prontera's satellite nation, Izlude, a small craft was fast approaching the docks. It was a simple design, consisting of a single hull with a mast and sail for locomotion. A lone figure stood atop the cross beam at the top of the mast, her wild mass of flame red hair flying before her face in the strong head wind, her eyes narrowed against its salty gusts as her ship drifted toward the port city. She reached up a gloved hand into her mass of hair, attempting to comb it back out of her face so that she could see more clearly.

Suddenly, she glanced down from the distant docks to the innards of her own ship. A scowl appearing on her face, she took hold of a nearby rope and clenched it tightly in her gloved hands, sliding down from atop the mast and down into the boat. A heavy splash of seawater met the contact between her boots and the deck of the boat. Sitting down on the horizontal plank that served as a seat, she picked up the bucket floating in the water that was halfway filling her boat and began to toss bucketfuls of water over the sides of the ship.

After a few moments of this, something caught her eye from outside and she snapped her head up. The moment she recognized what she was seeing, she dropped the bucket and stood up, her right hand reaching up to slide the pirate bandanna from on top of her head and hold it over her heart. Before her, swinging in the wind of an open cove, were the rotted remains of three men wearing the garb of pirates, the same ropes that they had been strung up from the gallows with still around their neck. Attached to the rope of the center corpse was a hand-written sign reading, "Pirates Ye Be Warned."

She touched the first two fingers of her left hand to her brow in a respectful gesture, a pang of sympathy echoing in her heart for the fates of the pirates. The life of a seafaring outlaw was not one that was easy, and as those wind-dried remains attested, it often came with dire consequences. She was thankful to the gods that no authorities had gotten hold of her yet, but then she smiled slowly. She would _always_ be one step ahead of the authorities, because she had more than five thousand years' worth of experience to fall back on.

Turning her attention away from the unfortunate pirates, she picked up the bucket while looking down at the steady supply of water creeping into her boat, then turned her eyes up toward the approaching dock. Making a few mental calculations, she judged that her ship would just barely slide under the bottom of the docks at the current rate.

Tossing the bucket over the side of the boat, she took hold of one of the mast ropes and climbed up to the very top once again, balancing herself easily in the tiny bucket attached to the top of the mast that served as a crow's nest. As she stood there, the wind shifted to blow at her back, billowing out her long red hair before her.

The hull of the boat was underwater now, but the half-sunk mast was still catching wind and propelling the craft forward. She could see the dock workers on nearby ships staring at her incredulously as her boat continued forward, now with most of its mast completely underwater.

As the boat neared the dock, she leaned out her right leg and stepped forward, her boot sole hitting the dock and lifting her up onto its wooden surface as the boat finally ran out of momentum, the crow's nest the only part of it still above the water. Not even looking back, she began walking down the pier, toward the city.

"'Ey, you!" a voice called out behind her, prompting her to stop in midstep and turn around, to find the dock master standing behind her, what looked like a registry in his hands. "It's a zeny to tie your boat up at the dock."

She held up a finger to pause him, then looked over his shoulder at the almost-entirely sunken boat that she had come in on.

The dock master seemed to take this in, then brushed it off. "And I'll be needing to know your name."

The woman thought for a moment, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a trio of zeny, depositing the coins onto his book. "What say you to three zeny, and we forget the name?"

She could see the greed light up in the dock master's eyes as he hastily snapped his book shut. "Welcome to Izlude, Miss Smith."

Nodding with a smile, she turned to continue back up the docks. As she neared the dock master's station, she noticed a pouch of coins sitting unattended. Looking back to make sure that the dock master was not paying attention, she picked up the pouch, shook it once to make sure it contained coins, then pocketed it and continued on her way.

---

The sun was already setting when Cresnoble and Michiko finally emerged from the guild agency. Many of the merchants in the town square were closing up shop, preparing to head home for the night. For a moment, Michiko wondered if he would immediately head back out into the wilderness, but she breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw him turn towards the inn.

As he crossed through the door of the inn and held it open for her, a sudden twitch at the back of her head caused her to turn and look back over the near-empty streets. She didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but she could sense some familiar presence nearby. She couldn't place it, but she had the distinct feeling that it wasn't a friendly one.

A hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to jump involuntarily and spin around, only to find Cresnoble standing there, pulling his hand back, and wearing a perplexed expression. "Something the matter?"

Blinking, Michiko blushed at her reaction, then shook her head. "No. Just felt odd for a moment."

He nodded understandingly. "Let's get inside, hm?"

She nodded as well, and this time followed him into the inn.

---

Hours later, as the pirate lazily made her way across the field between Izlude and Prontera in the dead of night, she stopped in her tracks, rocking back as though she'd been gut-punched. A wave of despair and pain swept over her, so intense that she had to go to a knee and clutch the sides of her head for fear that it would burst.

_No... It's _him_. Has he found her?_

She abruptly pushed herself to her feet, continuing on toward Prontera at a faster pace, as several seemingly-unrelated clues suddenly clicked into place. There was no moon tonight, only dark, foreboding clouds, and what seemed to be an evil mist blanketing the land. She hadn't seen a single of the cute, squishy pink monsters that naturally inhabited the plains. And in the distance, crossing the field, she could see what appeared to be a large group of _something_. She couldn't tell exactly what it was, but she was pretty sure that, judging by the enthusiastic charge toward Rune-Midgard's capital city they were making, they were bad news for Prontera.

Of course, there was one thing she had to keep in mind. _She_ was bad news for this bunch as well.

Pulling out her bow, she took off running toward Prontera.

---

It was somewhere around the middle of the night when Michiko awoke. When they'd settled into the room, Cresnoble had given her the bed, and took a nearby chair for himself. The gentlemanly behavior toward her embarrassed her greatly, but she had not questioned his reasoning. Now, as she sat up in the small bed, her eyes easily found Cresnoble. He was standing near the open window, weapons clutched in hand, clad in only his pants. The cool night breeze gently wafted his hair around his face. Michiko couldn't stop her eyes from wandering to the athletically-defined muscles of his arms and sides.

"You're awake," he said quietly, as though not wishing to disturb something. He kept his eyes focused outside the window, not looking back at her.

She mentally slapped herself, locking her eyes onto the side of his head. "What is it?" she asked, just as quietly.

"Something's happening," he answered. "It looks like a large army's approaching the city."

Blinking dazedly, a cold feeling settled itself in her stomach. This had something to do with that presence she had felt earlier, she knew. Taking advantage of the fact that Cresnoble's back was still to her, she quickly slipped out of bed and into her kimono, easily dressing herself with speed and silence. Once finished, she picked up the silver knife that he had given her and tucked it into her belt, where she could easily get at it.

Just as she finished that, Cresnoble turned away from the window and walked over to where he had left his belongings, pulling on his padded armor vest and the light travel clothing he wore over it. He picked up a pair of stilettos and tucked the backup weapons into his belt, then checked his supply of awakening potions, divided it in half, and gave one half of them to Michiko.

She numbly took the potions and placed them inside her kimono so that she could easily get at them without thinking. _This is deadly serious to him,_ she mused, hoping that, whatever this army was, that his plan was to escape, and that they could manage to do so without getting hurt.

The city's alarm sirens began to wail as they made their way down the stairs. In front of her, Cresnoble shook his head slowly, and she had an idea why. Setting off the alarms would do more harm that good, because as late as it was, the citizens were likely to wander out into the streets to find out what was going on, which would put them right in harm's way.

As they stepped out onto the streets, Cresnoble held out his arm, keeping Michiko behind him as he stopped to let a platoon of knights pass by. He turned his head to watch them as they ran toward the main gate, which was already coming under attack by the enemy forces. Far down the street, more knights were trying to keep the main gates closed against the attackers, but were not having an easy time of it.

As he watched, Cresnoble just barely caught a flash of something deathly white, then the wooden gates splintered open, hurling knights in every direction, as a huge figure clad entirely in white, down to his armor, shield, and the menacing twenty-foot long lance he wielded, riding a horse that was equally a ghostly white, marched into the city. Spirits seemed to flock around him, some seeking to become one with him, others attempting vainly to escape his power. Behind him, the assassin saw what could only be an army of undead creatures, stretching for miles across the Pronteran field.

"Fuck," he said quietly.

"What's wrong, Sir Cres-" Michiko's speech died in midsentence as her eyes fell upon the ghastly figure at the head of the enemy formation. She had no earthly idea what it was, but the mere sight of it terrified her. She wanted nothing more than to get far, far away from Prontera.

"The white knight of destruction," Cresnoble said slowly, as if not believing the words he was saying. "The warrior of pure annihilation whose power over death is so great that the dead flock to him in spirit form, seeking to gain a fraction of his power. Then once they realize what he is, it's already too late for them to escape. Their spirits feed him, give him his ungodly power."

"L-l-l-Lord of Death..." Michiko breathed, praying to every god that existed that the being hadn't heard her.

"Lord of Death," Cresnoble affirmed, nodding his head. He turned to face her, and even though he hid it remarkably well, she could tell he was also terrified of the notion of facing the feared Lord of Death in battle. "Come on. This party's over."

Cresnoble hadn't planned on their being able to get away without a fight. He wasn't disappointed. As soon as they turned onto the road that led toward the west gate, he spotted a dozen soldier skeletons marching toward them.

The assassin reacted instantly, leaping forward with both arms extended out at his sides. His outstretched arms caught and bore down two skeletons with a clattering of bones and weapons.

Utilizing his momentum, Cresnoble immediately rolled back up to his feet and continued forward in a running crouch. He swung his arms outward as he crossed the next pair of soldiers. This time, his jamadhars were extended. The razor-edged blades sheared through the leg-bones of the skeletons at the hip, dropping them as well.

As they fell, he crossed his arms over his chest and kept running. Reaching another pair of soldiers, his arms shot out at superhuman speed. Moments later, a pair of bony skulls popped up into the air.

Frozen where she stood, Michiko gawked at the speed of Cresnoble's attack. It had taken him less than three seconds to effectively halve the force arrayed against them. Then time seemed to snap back to normal for her. Cresnoble was moving on to the fourth pair, and the two he had clotheslined were getting back up. The fight was far from over.

Suddenly, before she knew she had moved, Michiko was lunging toward the soldier on the right, her silver dagger outstretched in her right hand and jamming into the base of the skeleton's skull. It immediately locked up, the vital connections between its brain and the rest of its body severed in one fell swoop. As it pitched forward, her left hand snapped forward to snatch one of its own daggers while she removed her own from its skull.

As she situated the new dagger in her hand and got a feel for it, she spared a glance to Cresnoble. She watched as the assassin flowed through the follow through of the spinning kick that had launched the tenth soldier into the wall of a building, its jaw fractured.

On instinct, she leapt straight backwards, twisting her head to the right. A fiery pain blossomed in her left cheek as blood dripped from the wound that would otherwise have removed her head.

She dove forward as the soldier's second dagger came around, attempting to correct its miss. As she came up inside its strike range, she pinned the soldier's arm to its chest with her right arm, then drew her left arm across herself and stabbed the stolen dagger deep into the hollow of the skeleton's jawbone. As a final move, she shoved the dead or dying skeleton away from her with her right hand, turning away as it clattered noisily to the pavement.

She shook her head suddenly as though to clear it, then looked around at the deaths she had wrought as though seeing them for the first time. Her red eyes blinked confusedly, then she shook it off and brought her eyes up to see how Cresnoble had fared. She looked up just in time to see him holding a skeleton in a headlock, its bony skull pressed against his hip.

Suddenly, the assassin turned halfway to his left and dropped quickly to his knee. With the way that he had been holding the skeleton, its neck snapped with a sickening crunch and the head rolled out of his arm, clattering to the ground.

Coming back up to his feet, he first looked over the way she had picked up what he had left, then locked eyes with her. He nodded at her, and she recognized immediately that it was a nod of respect between equals. She felt a rush of warmth at having been elevated, even temporarily, to his level.

Then something different flashed in his eyes, and he began to run toward her, shouting, "Behind you!"

She spun around, just barely catching sight of something rotted and ugly lunging at her. She knew that she would not be able to evade in time, that Cresnoble wouldn't reach her in time.

But out of nowhere, the creature uttered a strangled gasp as a pair of arrow shafts suddenly appeared protruding from its forehead. It stumbled back down the street, pitched over onto its face, then shuddered once and died.

Both Michiko and Cresnoble turned in the direction from which the arrows had come, to find a red-haired rogue wearing a pirate bandanna perched on a rooftop, silhouetted against the moon. Not even sparing them a glance, the woman nocked another silver-tipped arrow and drew the bowstring back with a respectable amount of strength, far further back than the rogue master's bow was meant to be drawn.

With a nearly-silent _whoosh_ sound, she released the arrow to fly down into the street, smashing into the chest of and knocking off its feet a zombie. The creature uttered a pathetic sigh and then was dead.

Satisfied that there were no other threats for the moment, the woman leapt from her perch atop the building and landed nimbly in front of Cresnoble and Michiko. As soon as she got a closer look at the woman, Michiko felt the faint stirring of familiarity in her mind. For the time being, she simply filed that information away.

"The city of Prontera is no longer safe," the woman said without preamble. "You must evacuate immediately."

Instead of ordering the woman to identify herself, as Michiko had expected, Cresnoble merely gave her an evaluative look and dryly replied, "We're working on that."

"By attempting to escape via one of the gates, I assume?" The woman shook her head. "This army of undead has the city completely surrounded. There is no escaping that way."

"Then just what do you suggest?"

"I'll create a warp to Alberta. Most of the survivors are regrouping there."

As the two of them decided on their course of action, Michiko turned and looked over the empty street. Already, on the far side of the city, she could see the telltale glow of a fire. Always destruction. She shook her head sadly.

The pirate was gesturing with her hands, muttering the vocal incantation of a warp spell. As the blue and white warp field materialized before them, Michiko heard the clattering of skeletons moving across the pavement.

All three of them turned to see an archer step out of an alleyway, already bringing its compound bow to bear on Michiko. As the creature released its shot, darkness fell upon her vision. It took her a moment to realize that the darkness was Cresnoble stepping into the path of the arrow.

She heard a hard impact, heard him grunt in pain, then he stumbled backwards into the warp field. Brilliant blue and white light engulfed his body, then he was gone.

"Go!" she heard the pirate shout at her, as she too interposed her body between the archer and the sohee. She nocked a silver arrow into her bow, then shoved Michiko back into the warp field with her left hand.

As brightness and oblivion surrounded her, she saw the pirate draw back her bow.

* * *

**A/N:** Nothing really to say, 'cept apologies for the late update. I haven't been inspired to work on S-Wolves in forever. It was a pain in the ass just to drag the end of this chapter out of me. So without further ado, on to the shout-outs.

**Raven:** You must make a shitty non-archer then. Cruisers are cannon fodder to both Ganale and Cresnoble. Even when they were eensey little baby vit knights/sins.

**Blank:** Consider it updated. :3

**Kenjiro Akisama:** 'Sin is a pretty easy job class. Easier even than vit knight, which was the first class I ever had. I believe I said in the beginning that S-Wolves would have a fairly slow pace. And I've held true to that. XD Yeah, most of what goes on here will have some basis on what happens on the server I play on. Except, naturally, the invasion of Prontera.

Yeah, the plot's got several twists and turns before we reach the end. The only other person who knows how it'll all turn out is the player behind the pirate rogue. :3 It's half her idea, after all. Maybe Raven, too. I don't think I gave him all the details, tho.


End file.
